Nonfiction

Winter is more than just building snowmen outside.

It’s more than frothy cups of hot cocoa with marshmallows floating on top

And red-tip noses from the brisk winds outside.

There is fresh powder outside after the nor’easter last night. The sun is just barely coming over the snowy mountains as I drive down the highway, no one else but me and the snow on the road.

     On a rainy day looking out the window, all one can see is rain. The glowing eye of the television entraps us all. Board games are scattered everywhere. People say there's no place like home.

Most people say that they like summer; well, I like winter. The cold chill, snowflakes in the air falling in slow motion, gliding down like a weightless feather.

 Shoes 

    It was a pretty cold night and the wind blew hard.  I was walking down the street looking for something to do because I was bored.  It had been snowing for a while and it still continued, coming down, and down.

Monday
 7:50am 
Where is everybody going? Can I come? No, don’t leave me! Not again! 
8:00am
Oh no, not again! Must find my people! 
Chew, chew, chew. Scratch, scratch, scratch! 

Tigerstar’s Death

     When I look at an animal at the zoo, he normally looks back. When he looks at me, straight in the eyes, he's  probably thinking, “Darn, another one. Geez, when can I get some privacy around here.